Fading Colors
by Sauri
Summary: [Gruvia] It is said that love is blind. Sometimes it really is.
1. Chapter 1

**N/A: **This idea, this fic, everything, doesn't make sense. Welp. Welcome to my world! This story was supposed to come after another idea I was giddy to write, but found out that this one is way easier to do, even though I had to be careful with descriptions. And I really, really don't know what I'm doing with this fic. I think it's not on my abilities to do anything like this or something. Whatever.

It's going to have three chapters btw. _Maybe_ two if I see three is dragging, but who knows. I don't.

Enjoy, and tell me any typos or any kind of errors you find so I can fix them!

**Summary: **It is said that love is blind. Sometimes it really is.

**Warnings: **Disability, swearing, OoCness and old good me torturing characters.

**Disclaimer: **Fairy Tail and its characters are not mine. They belong to Hiro Mashima.

* * *

**Fading Colors **

**I**

No one sees it coming. They pride on the fact of being the best team of Fairy Tail, sometimes even of all Fiore, but they didn't see it when they should have.

It is a shame, really.

They are too distracted with the enemies in front to pay any mind to their backs, a fatal error, and so it's no wonder that one of the bastards has enough intelligence left, a miracle that one, to sneak around until he has positioned himself behind them. The man who is barely a grunt launches an attack with magic that barely can be called magic and then, the worst happen.

The lucky asshole actually hits his target.

It is with all the odds against him that the heavy boulder clashes against his back when he is fighting other grunts in their hideout, leaving him breathless and motionless for a moment, before falling and getting smashed on the floor.

And when his mind is regaining some focus after the collision, feeling his body coming back to action, the rock finally falls on him, squashing him with its insupportable weight. He is not sure if he has screamed, he can't hear his own voice.

But Gray hears a sound much like something breaking.

And holy shit, he thinks before going unconscious, his head fucking hurts.

-x-

Gray wakes up to a sound like shoes being dragged on the floor. It's muffled, almost as if the person making it is trying to conceal any noise. There is a heavy unpleasant smell of antiseptics and medicinal herbs lingering in the air that makes his nose twist. He sniffs something that resembles lemon and beer as well, behind all the other scents, and his forehead feels wet.

Suddenly, the shuffling stops and a poof echoes in the room, followed by the low hum of a female voice. Gray recognizes the song she is singing. It's Mira's favorite one when she is working, cheerful and lively. He relaxes at the knowledge of being at home, letting the damp cloth in his face to refresh him.

It's after a minute or so that the mage decides to move. Slowly, a groan escaping from his lips, he sits up in the mattress of what he supposes is the infirmary of the guild. He doesn't attempt on getting up from the bed he is laying on.

"Oh, Gray! You're awake," Mira says happily, coming closer from whatever chair she has been sitting. "We were worried about you. Wendy was so distressed, she said your contusion was pretty bad."

The raven haired man tilts his head to his right, not completely listening to the beauty of their guild. He stirs hands and legs trying to check his mobility, fingers brushing against the soft sheets. There is a dull pain in his chest that has been covered with bandages, but nothing worrying.

Still, concern arises. Gray gulps nervously.

"How are yo−?"

"What time is it?" He asks hurriedly.

Mira seems to be taken aback at first, answering two seconds late.

"Around noon."

He sucks a deep breath. It wasn't night. He was hoping to be night. He brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it more if possible, and bites the lower lip.

"Gray?" She says, hand placed in his right arm with evident uncertainty. He flinches, very slightly.

"Call Wendy." He is ashamed that fear was audible in his tone, but he is unable to contain it. "Now."

It is then that the woman catches in his growing uneasiness, her jolly attitude changing to concern and seriousness. "Is something wrong?"

Gray turns his head slightly to the right, to the origin of her voice, but he can't tell if it is there where she stands. He can't be sure that she is there only with her voice as guide. Panic settles down and breaks his words, making them a shuttering whisper.

"It's black, Mira." He is sure that the sheets are torn apart by now with the strength he is holding them. "I don't see anything."

-x-

After a week of tests, consults, doubts and more tests, they finally confirm it: he is blind as a bat.

Makarov has called Polyusca to check on him when Wendy ended up in a fit of helplessness. The poor girl was crying when she left the room, apologizing for her incompetence, unable to find a way to fix his new condition, and a distressed Mira trying to comfort her.

The old woman grudgingly came with her enchantments and potions, trying everything her years of experience has given her, to no success. He didn't see anything beyond the nothingness that has became his sight; nothing but a blackness that wasn't quite black. One afternoon Polyusca gathered her possession, furiously muttering under her teeth and pronounced her final verdict.

"This boy won't see. There isn't anything that can be done."

"Are you sure?" Makarov asked tiredly.

"Magic can't heal everything, Makarov," she spat, heading to the exit. "Now leave me alone."

After that, in their last and desperate try, they even sought the help of the doctor of Magnolia too, who, after a couple of days monitoring him, has said the same words that the old witch has pronounced, the only difference being that he had more tact than the woman.

So he is not seeing anymore. That much is a fact.

Well.

Fucking well.

Gray takes a deep breath, a futile attempt to calm down, in what has become his temporary bedroom. He prefers to stay in bed, however, only standing up to go to the bathroom at his left. It's hard to walk around when you can't look where you are heading to.

The place is eerily quiet, the ruffling of the sheets being the only sound between the four walls. Gray doesn't like it, the oppressive, unnatural stillness, so unlike the chaos he is used to. He doesn't like the quietness that makes him think, because all the thoughts go to the same subject and, really, he doesn't like to think about his new situation either.

So Gray lays in bed, waiting for someone to come in.

-x-

He catches the sound of a door opening at his right, the one that leads to the second floor of the guild, and a grumbling sound entering the silent room. The steps of the person are short and strong, almost jumpy in the end. The ice mage knows that it's Makarov before he speaks. He has heard the man's distinctive walking enough during the week, with the master always coming to watch over him, to difference it from the others.

"We've tried to keep the matter as quiet as possible, only your team and Mira knowing about this," the elder starts. The noise of the wood scratching the floor reaches his ears. "Until we were sure about your sight, at least." Another sound of a weight landing on a plain surface. "So of course the entire guild is bound to know since long ago."

The ice mage tries to crack a smile at his words; nevertheless, he only manages to produce a crooked smirk that doesn't reach. Makarov sighs.

"Lucy and Levy are searching for books. For help. About Braille, mobility and the other things that you'd need to know with your sight gone."

"That's good," he answers with a nod. After a second, he adds, "I guess."

"And then, there is the residence." That, Gray doesn't expect. Tilting his head to the general space where the master is, he raises an eyebrow in a silent question. "If you want, you can stay here in the guild a bit more." A pause. "Until everything is settle down."

The younger one snorts. As if things would ever be normal again.

"Gray." He jerks slightly. Just for a second his muscles tense before relaxing again.

It's not the scold but the hand that Makarov puts on his own that makes him jump. It is something that has been happening to him lately when anyone touches him. He cannot see them about to touch him, so when they do, he jolts –in surprise or fear is up to discussion. It's almost shameful.

Then again, Gray has been on edge since the accident. With reasons, he reminds himself.

And still, it is shameful.

He needs time off, he is sure.

"I− rather go to my own apartment."

"Thought so," Makarov chuckles. It's a restrained laugh. "I'll ask Lucy and Natsu to accompany you."

In the afternoon he walks through the hall directed by Lucy. He feels like a kid being lead by the hand, powerless, relaying on others to go to his own goddam house and completely unable to do anything on his own. And the guild is really quiet at first, for his presence Gray thinks, and it irks him more than anything. He frowns, teeth gritting and mouth set in a fine line.

For a moment, he wishes to go up again to the silence of the infirmary and he resolves that, yes, he has decided correctly staying at his apartment.

Until his guild mates stop treating him like an invalid, even if he now _is, _at least.

Or until he has come to an understanding with whatever that was awaiting him. That would take longer to come around with.

It's a quiet ride, only disrupted by the bickering between Natsu and Happy, Lucy interrupting them and the people around them living their lives. They take more time than the usual to arrive while Gray intends on learning the route from his house to the guild without much success. When they do reach his apartment, Lucy offers to prepare dinner as the other two make his home their home.

He lies, telling them that there is already some precooked food in the fridge he can eat and that he will be okay alone. That he needs time to think about... things. They concede in the end.

"Are you sure?" Lucy asks for the tenth time, her heels clattering in the wooden floor.

"C'mon, Lucy," Natsu says with a vivacity that isn't completely the usual one."He'll take care of himself. Right, Ice Pants?"

"Right."

They don't speak further, but they don't move either. He doesn't hear them moving. He wonders if they are sharing one of their wordless looks or assessing him and his state in silence. It's frustrating not to know. Usually, he shouldn't have to even think about what they were doing when they were standing in front of him.

Usually in the past, but not anymore, he remembers bitterly.

The duo must feel something is not right, that _he_ is not completely right. However, to his gratitude, they decide not to press, because then, with a short adieu, they are gone.

He is alone again. The room is blissfully quiet.

-x-

The living room is the first place when entering his house, with nothing but a small sofa, an armchair, bookshelves against the wall and a table in the middle. There are four steps in a straight line from the door to his bedroom. The bed is in the right corner, just under the window, and next to it the nightstand with the clock and the lamp. The closet on the other side occupies half of the wall and yet, clothes are scattered all over the floor. If he chooses to turn left in the second step and give another three, he would find the bathroom. The kitchen at his right turn. Both are small, with the sufficient amount of furniture like the rest of his apartment. He is glad that there isn't much to discover.

Gray spends two days like that, going back and forth in his own house until every nook, corner and turn is burn in his memory. He repositions and memorizes the objects' collocations: plates and glasses are in the second cupboard from the left and the cutlery in the top drawer next to the fire, pots and pans in the first cupboard and the cleaning product under the sink, the few books and souvenirs in the shelves above his bed, on top of his closet are boxes with winter clothes that he never uses and the first aids kit is under his bed, his toothbrush is in the left side of the bathroom sink, the painkillers at the right, and the list goes on.

It's a tiring task and a really boring one, he discovers. A solitary one too, although he doesn't mind at the moment. And most importantly, there isn't time to think. When he has spent the day doing the same thing again and again and _again,_ he is too drained physically and mentally to even let his thoughts rift apart. He works on memorizing at day without a rest and sleeps soundlessly at night.

It's almost not so bad. Only almost.

Except when he wakes up, because he can't tell if he is even awake. Because there should be a white ceiling to see when opening his eyes but there is only nothing, less than nothing, and it's annoying. So very annoying that he stands from his bed with a frown and a scoff every day.

Mornings are not his thing now, obviously.

It's no wonder that his friends tell him that he is snappy when they visit. Of course he is, what they were expecting? So he snaps a little bit more and when usually they would answer right back at him, they don't. Not now. And that is as bad as mornings. Worse, maybe.

He is grateful of them anyways. They come day in and day out without a miss, always with a story of someone on the guild −how Cana won another game of drinking, how little Asuka made the proud Elfman play princesses with her, how Natsu and the boys destroyed the guild once more. They are nice to listen to. Not inviting enough to get outside, though.

It doesn't matter how much his friends fret over him, Erza threatens him, Gray is not going out. It's as easy as making a cane with his ice, coming out and practice, or so the books say; but Gray won't. A matter of comfort, he tells them, he wants to be sure he knows his house before exploring new places. He wants to know how to live again thanks to the books Levy and Lucy read to him almost every day.

They believe him and Gray will stay in front of a door he can't see, his hands itching.

-x-

It's a week into his confinement, when Erza and Cana are visiting, that one of those things he didn't want to think about is brought up. He is struggling to make tea, simple daily _tea, _and the girls sit around the table in the kitchen. Gray places the kettle on the fire, with speed muck like a snail and hands dancing everywhere, making sure that he is touching and using the right things. The girls don't offer help; they know that Gray won't accept it. They have tried.

The talking is scarce, topics ranging from missions to gossips, a grunt in response and nothing beyond. Gray has always preferred it like that. It's pleasant. Listening half-heartily to their conversation and answering with the same enthusiasm, he manages to get the pot with the tea-leaves. There is the strong smell of aromatic herbs coming from the jar that confirms his suspicions, a triumphant smile making its way to his face.

"Juvia is coming back from her mission tomorrow." It's Erza who has spoken, her tone not so rough and an underline of wariness behind it. She has directed it to him, the ice mage knows, because Cana doesn't answer back this time.

Gray stops, a second too late opening the pot. After two and half week long of a mission the water mage was returning home. Nothing surprising there, it would happened sooner or later. However, his guild mates have been cautious with subject from the start, as if he was afraid of the blue haired woman or something.

Except he is not. Really. The idea is ridiculous. So he says in a nonchalant way: "Is she?"

He hears the clang of Erza's armor and Cana scoffing under her teeth. The man starts measuring the quantity of the herbs silently. That's one of the trickiest parts, but he is getting hold of it bit by bit.

"Gray."

He continues not paying any mind, throwing the leaves in the kettle with the water that emits sounds of bursting bubbles. Gray waits three seconds before turning his head to his left, just enough to assure them he is listening, and then there is a defeated sigh.

"Nothing."

-x-

Juvia comes with a bang. Literally.

The door of his apartment flings wide open, startling him from his task on washing dishes, and steps come into his house. They are neither the light short steps of Levy nor the potent ones of Elfman; they don't resemble Natsu's inconsistent ones or the strenuous confident steps of Erza. Gray has never heard them as they are not of anyone who has come to visit in a regular basis and yet, he can tell.

The person in question enters the kitchen in a hurry, her breaths swallow and heavy. She has been running, he thinks, and it isn't really that surprising. He stands there for a few seconds, waiting for her to do the first move. She doesn't, he takes another dish and starts washing it. The mage is hesitant before speaking.

"Hey," he sounds more rough than intended. "You should make a noise or somethin' so I can tell who're ya."

There is a gasp, a shaking breath and the sudden clacking of her shoes against the floor. Gray knows that she is about to hug even before he has finished his sentence, so by the time her arms are sneaking around his torso the plate at his hands is carefully collocated on the sink.

"Gray-sama!" She wails while he sighs.

The ice mage still tenses with the unwanted touch, although not as much as in previous weeks, but he does an effort and lets her overly dramatic friend to hug him to her heart's content. Thank whatever deity there is that she isn't crying. He wouldn't be able to manage that.

Limbs death at his sides, Gray thinks that it could be worse. Juvia isn't crushing him to death, favoring a gentler embrace, and she isn't spouting nonsense or anything else he had been dreading. Actually, she seems calm against him now, almost reassuring, in contrast of the bundle of anxiousness she had been just seconds ago.

He is not all that surprised. With this girl it has always been one extreme or the other.

He relaxes.

When she has regained composure, what is left of it anyways, he feels Juvia straightening before him. Gray senses her discomfort when the woman in front of him starts swinging to the sides slightly. She doesn't speak up till he is the one breaking the silence once again.

"What now?"

She fidgets a bit more, he can hear the floor cracking under her feet, before responding with uncertainty dyeing her voice. And from all the thing she can say, she chooses the less concerning one.

"Juvia is sorry she entered his house without asking." A stop. "And Gray-sama is in his underwear."

He smiles amused. It's the first one in weeks that feels natural.

-x-

Juvia becomes a permanent mixture on his visits quickly enough. She comes at mornings for an hour or so before leaving to the guild for missions, and if she has time, she appears at his house at afternoons sometimes too.

She has made the promise of helping him in any way she can and as the stubborn being she is, Juvia holds up to her words. She has added herself to Lucy and Levy for the group to learn Braille −even though he has got most of it by then. The water woman tries harder than she should when giving him a hand with chores of the house, never listening to his protests, and making small talk that could go from usual topics to long monologues about her dreams. She is relentless in that way.

Gray can't do anything but let her be, as annoying as she can be. Because Juvia is this woman who can be described as overwhelming, overly attached and emotional to the point of madness and he has known her for so long that anything else would be strange. He is comfortable with her like that.

But, when she is just sitting and no talking, the ice mage gets the sensations that nothing is as it should be. There is a silence he doesn't know around her, one that doesn't imply she is worried or contemplative or just happy, and Gray wonders.

It's hard to figure things out when he hasn't any clue of her thoughts, when he can't see her face for hints, but he tries.

Gray only knows that he isn't really alright on what it can mean, as if she is gauging him or the situation or his blindness and he feels apprehension sinking. So, instead of putting up with it, with a well used sentence he gets her to act as always, switching back to the old ways and the familiar relationship with her.

Because she is _Juvia _and everything be dammed if she ever changes around him.

-x-

Gray is not used to dreaming. Or remembering them at least. His nights have always been dreamless, full of gaps that he has never bothered filling. Even when he was with Ur and Lyon in the old days and they woke him up in the middle of the night because he had been screaming, he only felt the vague unsettling sensation of a nightmare in the back of his mind. Nothing more.

Lately, he does remember them.

They are not out of ordinary or strange or worrying in any form; maybe the fact that he now seems to dream is disorienting at first, but he quickly lefts that feeling behind. The dreams are really typical actually, images of sunny days in the hall of the guild drinking with his friends or of a weird mission with his team.

There is a problem, though. The ice mage doesn't notice in the first few nights, when the dreams can be labeled as peaceful. They are the only place where he can see again, even if it's only in his own dreams. Then, he senses something off, not completely as it should be, until his mind kicks in and he finds out.

The colors are wrong. Utterly _wrong._ Lucy's shiny blond doesn't feel quite right nor do Strauss sisters' light blue eyes. He can tell that Gajeel's iron doesn't shine in that way or that Makarov's wrinkles or Laxus' scar are like what he sees in his dreams. The shadows don't match either, coming from strange angles and he is not sure of the consistency of some patterns.

He is sure that Juvia's eyes are of a really dark brown he can't name, the one bothering with black that with the right light resembles a deep blue. In his dreams, they are plain brown. Somewhat glassy.

Everything is messed up.

And even if he knows that they are not the colors, shadows and patterns that belong there, he cannot recall which the right ones for the life of him are. Not anymore anyways.

-x-

After a month of practice he has gotten used to his kitchen. It has taken time and a lot of burnings, flooding and whatever catastrophe that has happened between the four walls, but he can prepare his own meals without destroying anything. Perhaps the fact he was no fan of cooking from the start hindered his chef trajectory. It doesn't matter, even if he won't be the best on the subject, he can do it now.

It's a small victory to recognize the variety of vegetable, fruits and meats that his friends bring home by only touching them. He learns that chicken and rabbit don't have the same texture and that garlic and onion smell different even before laying a hand on them. They are tiny distinctions that he had never noticed, but now he is glad of them. It makes everything much simpler. Not easier, though, never easier.

His friends praise him on that, some days staying for lunch and even throwing comments that Gray is not sure on how to take. Natsu, enthusiastic as always, tells him all the happening in his absence and Lucy corrects his best friend on numerous occasions. Erza prefers to stay out of it as long as the Dragon Slayer doesn't go violent and Wendy adds her own commentary here and there, sitting next to Carla and Happy. Gray laughs with them, mocks Natsu, thanks Lucy for reminding to put his clothes on and fears Erza's fury.

All seems okay.

Seems because Gray knows that, underneath everything, they are still worried about him. He has yet to debut outside his own apartment. However, they have given up in convincing him and they just wait, more worried each time he turns down their invitations.

Sadly, his team is not the only who has started to wonder, and the other person who is conscious about the situation is more vocal about him. She always is.

It's an afternoon of early spring, his team gone for a few days with a mission in the neighbor city, and Juvia is the one who makes her presence in his home. They are not doing much really, opting for silence rather than mindless talk and she is doing whatever she intends to do in his kitchen. He isn't paying attention when she speaks for the first time in a while.

"Juvia's been wondering."

Gray halts on his task of reading a fairly simple book written in braille. There are moments where he cannot distinct if he has read a word correctly or he just gets confused with one letter or other, but he is getting the trick of it.

"'Bout?" He asks moving his hands away from the pages.

There is the sound of a cupboard opening and her swift movements taking something from it. Gray turns to the sound with a scowl in place. He questions when she has become so familiar with his own house.

"Why doesn't Gray-sama go to the guild?" She is not looking at him, Gray detects, as she is using the unsure and almost stammering tone of hers that she uses when she doesn't have confidence to reply directly. A soft bang of something metallic resonates. "Isn't Gray-sama getting tired of staying here?"

He is, he really is. There isn't anything else that he wants more than going to the guild and enjoy again.

Gray huffs, stirring in his seat he lets those thoughts slip from his mind. The water woman couldn't leave him on his own, could she.

"Is something wrong?"

He snaps, ready to give maybe a not so polite of an answer before biting his words back. He can feel her weight shifting on the table, the concern in her question and the underline meaning of it. Sometimes it scares him that she can read him so well, so unnaturally well, and that, sometimes, he can read her in the same way. He closes his books with a slam, choosing to think twice before saying anything.

"Look. Just give me time," he tries to sound confident, facing to the direction she is standing. "I'll go back soon."

He can sense that Juvia is not buying his words; she has always been sharp when it comes to him, but she doesn't press. Not now, later surely. She returns to whatever she was doing before.

"Does Gray-sama want tea?"

He scoffs. "Lemme help you."

-x-

Gray is tempted to smash the door on Lyon's face when he appears out of nowhere with a really out of place comment about his new condition. In the end, he decides not to for all the good things in the planet and for the sake of peace. Although he does punch him with a snarl in his lips once the other guy is inside.

Lyon stomps in, criticizing his lack of manners with guests and demanding something to drink because the travel has been long and exhausting and he didn't come there to be treated like some short of punching ball. That man would never change, so Gray serves him water from the sink.

They sit on the sofa on the living room. Lyon fills him on his life, something about missions and some problem with Cheila, but nothing new, and Gray tells him that he is managing. Somehow. That his friends come over almost every day and that he has done his research already. They add as many jests and insults as they can.

Finally, the younger of the two decides that water isn't enough after an hour of intermittent conversation and sets on doing coffee. Conveniently, he makes a bit too much for one, so he prepares two cups. With no sugar. Lyon doesn't like bitter coffee.

"I'm glad," the older man says suddenly in the middle of a comfortable silence.

Shifting in his position, he asks. "For?"

"You doing well, of course." The reaction arrives later than it should and when it does, it's an unbelievable cross between laughter and a cough. There is the loud dump of glass hitting wood across the table. "I'm not joking, Gray."

"I know." He snickers a bit more before settling for a half smile. "I know."

It doesn't last, the fond moment. It never last because Lyon has to fuck up saying unnecessary things. And he loses his calm with his idiocy and snaps because it's the way things are. Before the young ice mage can tell, the other guy is verbally harassing him as all the others have been doing.

Sometimes he wishes to punch the bastard where it really hurts.

"Your friends are concerned," Lyon starts. Gray stiffens. "Master Makarov is concerned. And don't make me start with Juvia-chan." He tilts his head to the other with a frown. "With reasons, I must add."

There is silence, one that weights on them with expectations and anxiety. Lyon seems to be waiting for anything, a positive response from his part, an affirmation of his suspicions, and Gray doesn't want to give him that. Simply because it's none of his business or anyone's.

"Don't start you too."

"It's been a _month_−"

"You just said I was doing fine−"

"Not completely, obviously, if−"

"What do you even know?!" He screams.

Lyon stops arguing for a whole minute in which Gray attempts on calming his nerves. He discovers he has stood up from his seat on the sofa and that Lyon's breathing is shallower than it should be. His companion sighs as an old man that has seen too much does. His crumbled expression doesn't lighten.

"I've a guess." Gray inhales, ready to deny everything, but Lyon continues without a pause. "Magic." That word makes the black haired man to stop in his tracks. "And pride. Useless pride. Or fear. I bet on both."

"I'm not afraid." It's a hollow thing to say, a flimsy argument at best. He tries, nevertheless.

"So it's magic then."

Gray doesn't confirm or negate what the white haired man says, choosing silence for all it's worth. Lyon sighs again and this time he agrees with what it means, clenching his hands at his sides. They stand in silence for what it seems too long of a time.

"Do they know?"

"No."

A longer pause this time. Gray starts chewing his mouth, awaiting an observation on how he should tell them sooner or later, or that he is acting like a child. It wouldn't work on keeping it as a secret forever and he already _knows. _It doesn't happen. He gets another question instead.

"What are you going to do? You'll need money eventually and won't make much cooped up here."

"Have savings for clothes, you know, to replace the ones I continuously lose. And since I can't drop anything here it doesn't matter at the moment."

There is a foul snort from the other side, the sound of a body moving and a response for all the conversation. It's somewhat sad and worried with a good amount of annoyance thrown in.

"You're full of answers, aren't you?"

-x-

"Uh."

"What?"

"It's raining."

Now that Gray listens, concentration gone from the task of preparing his breakfast, he hears the dripping sound against the windows. Gray hears Juvia's nervous feet against the floor too.

"And?"

"Juvia doesn't like the rain," she says as matter of fact.

He nods, not completely understanding. He munches on a toast while getting the food to the table. In silence, listening to the storm outside and the edgy movements of Juvia a thought occurs to him. Doubtful, swallowing the last of his toast, he asks in a way that tries too hard to be casual.

"Did you bring your umbrella?" A sound of negation. He hesitates a little bit more before going on. "Take mine then."

She swifts from one foot to the other, floor cracking under her. "Gray-sama may need it..."

"To open it inside the house?" He replies.

She halts on any movements, going very still all of a sudden. Gray searches her position on the room, angling to the quasi imperceptible sound of her breath that he has learned to perceive from early on, before shrugging and focusing on eating again. Juvia suspires while sitting across the table. She doesn't answer back.

Gray doesn't understand her obsession with the fact of him staying at his home. She didn't seem to care at first, preferring to spoil him despite his objections on it. But lately, when they don't have much to do anymore, she has been fixated with his actions, or lack of them.

And Juvia persists. There is no much success, though. He hardly ever gives in into her softened reprimands.

"What if you want to go outside?"

He sighs with her insistence. "Don't think so."

"But!"

"Not now, Juvia."

The water woman does stop this time. Gray suspects that it's the severe and grim voice he's used that braked her with her unstoppable burst. But it doesn't last. Nothing good seems to last lately.

"Gray-sama should," she mumbles. He almost doesn't catch. Almost.

"I had enough with Lyon yesterday." He swings his hands in front of him without lifting his disabled eyes to face her. "Why do any of you even care?"

It's a rhetoric question, said to end a bothersome conversation once for all, and he doesn't expect an answer until he hears a chair been dragged and two hands hitting the table. His eyebrows shot up in astonishment to the sound and Juvia's voice rings in his ears.

"That's a stupid question!"

He is speechless, raising his head to her in complete surprise. She rarely says any foul word and she rarely raises her voice to him. Gray blinks once and twice. He is surprised because Juvia Lockser has never been angry at him and he can discern the note of anger, unknown and strange, under all the concern.

He hears pain too, as though he has wounded her in the worst way possible, but he dismisses that.

"It's because Gray-sama is being stubborn. It's because Gray-sama is pushing his friends away. Because Gray-sama is being an idiot and missing life." Her words break at the end, as if she doesn't want to say any of it and she's forcing herself to do so. "Why doesn't Gray-sama at least try? Everyone in the guild is worried and Juvia doesn't know what to do."

Gray is not sure on what to say at first. The whole situation, the side of Juvia he hardly presences, is so sudden, so unfamiliar, that makes him to stands where he is, letting her do all the talk. But then, her words sink in, his breath hitches and her irate mood affects him.

And he finds out that he is angry too.

"Stop it. Seriously."

"Is Gray-sama scared for his lack of sight?" She carries on with no pause.

"Juvia," he warns, his patience low.

"If Gray-sama just created a cane and went outside as the books say-"

That's the last straw.

He stomps, quieting her babbling. She can be angry as much as she wants, alright, but she doesn't have any right to tell him what to do or not to do. She shouldn't be criticizing about things she doesn't _understand _and stay quiet about the subject. Juvia is not the only one who should shut up. But at the moment, he can feel his blood boil at her mindless words and he snarls.

And even though he is blind and he won't see ever again, just then, red takes over.

"'Cause I _can't!_" He bellows.

A silence that lasts too long drowns them. Although it does nothing to calm him down.

"What?" She sounds bewildered suddenly, her anger dissipating from her words and giving a step back.

"I can't fucking visualize anymore," Gray says through gritted teeth. "My ice magic is about_ imagining_ what I want to create and since I fucking lost my sight I can't. I've tried and failed." He stops, nostrils flaring in rage and eyebrows furrowed in a deep scowl. "So tell me how I'm supposed to do anythin', let alone a shitty cane!"

He doesn't sense anything afterwards. Blood is roaring in his ears and he hands are fists now, heart bumping wildly in his chest. She doesn't move or say anything for a moment, and by the time Juvia has recovered, he can feel his eyes stinging shamefully and he's biting the lower lip to restrain himself.

"Oh."

"Get out."

"But Juvia wants to hel−"

The ice mage stands up from his seat so suddenly that she stops midway her sentence. He is not sure to where, but he approaches her until he can feel her breath against his bare skin and he knows she is looking up at him with the wide eyes of hers he cannot see anymore. He sneers.

For the first time since they've met, he hisses at her.

"I do _not _need your help. I have never asked for you concern. And I certainly do not want it. Not now, not ever." He breathes, fist clenching and teeth seething. He hears nothing but silence and the quiet ruffling of clothes. "Get out."

It sounds harsh and cold and for a brief moment he swears that a whimper escapes from her mouth. But then she huffs, a mix of anger, disbelieve and pain to continue with a low sob. In that short moment, his mind asks what sort of face she is making, imagining all the possibilities and finding a hundred of them. None of them makes him feel better.

There is no answer for his own question, although there is one for his command.

"Okay."

There are six steps, the click of a door opening and the gentle slam of closing, water still drizzling outside.

And the sensation that he has done something very, very wrong.

-x-

Juvia doesn't come the next day. Nor the day after that. Much less the rest of the week. When the others come he doesn't dare to ask about her whereabouts. They don't seem to know in any case.

Gray settles on thinking that she has taken another long mission. She has her own schedule, her own preoccupations and obligations. And even if _he _has been one of her top priorities more times than not, it doesn't mean it would always been like that.

It's easier to think that way, although he can tell it isn't entirely true.

And still, he is irritated. He's irritated with her for being such an impossible woman and getting so into his life when she shouldn't have. He is irritated with her because she doesn't know when to stop and tries so hard for a cause that doesn't necessarily give her anything in return.

But mostly, he is mad with himself. For a number of reasons and maybe a little bit more.

He doesn't like the feeling and it's getting worse with each passing day.

And the dreams keep getting more blurred, which exasperates him more.

Now the colors are not the only thing wrong with them. Sometimes the small details are removed and the pictures simplified. Even the shades and shadows are not just wrong now; they simply do not appear anymore.

One day, he wakes up to discover that he doesn't remember if there was any difference between the red of Natsu's fire and Erza's hair, the yellows of Lucy and Laxus or if his own magic looked like glass instead of actual ice. It's almost impossible to recall the physical differences between the three cats of the guild and if Wendy was taller or smaller than Romeo.

He doesn't even remember the exact shade of Juvia's hair that resembled the blue of the sky but not _quite, _or if he just made that part up.

He can barely picture Ur's factions or Lyon's expressions.

His dreams have been filled with monotonous colors with no distinctions whatsoever, his own memories changing with them to a not so detailed versions of their past selves, and it's then, in his own bed looking but not seeing, that Gray finds out the truth that has been nagging him for a while now.

He has never been so afraid of forgetting.

* * *

**N/A: **Uhm. Domestic!Gray anyone? It was my favorite part to write, lol. Never thought that I would write a discussion between this two but must be done, I guess. So this chapter is kinda depressive, not so lighthearted and I promise it won't continue like this. Much. Not big fan of sad stories. Yeah. But I will take a looong time before updating the fic because I predict I won't have any time to write or, well, to do anything I like. Patience then?

Thanks for reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**N/A: **I'M ALIIIIIIVE. And late. Anyways, exams were a bitch, life was a bitch, this chapter was a bitch. But I passed everything and finally finished writing it. Yey. And it has almost 9000 words so hope I make up with it. I fucking swear the fic took its own life and exploded in my face and I don't even... There is a point where I went all bullshit and screwed it, I dare you to point it out.

Whatever, as always, any feedback is welcome and enjoy reading!

**Summary:**It is said that love is blind. Sometimes it really is.

**Warnings:**Disability, swearing, OoCness and old good me torturing characters part 2.

**Disclaimer:**Fairy Tail and its characters are not mine. They belong to Hiro Mashima.

* * *

**Fading Colors**

**II**

As the second week passes and he has yet to hear something from Juvia, it's when he starts worrying. Not in the sense of her being in danger, he knows she is not, the guild would be in an uproar if so, and it isn't in the way of missing her constant, exhausting, strenuous presence or anything like that. It isn't.

But he worries.

So Gray paces constantly, right and left with no pauses between. He keeps his mind busy and his body in action and there is always something in his hands. He inhales and exhales and asks questions to himself, never to others, and he wonders of endless possibilities

His conscience starts to creep in as well, the one that has been buried under a mountain of self-told lies and negations. There is a voice in the back of his head that sounds too much like Ur, scolding him continuously.

It speaks about his actions, the ones that he has done and he has not done, reminding and making him think of what he should have done and should have not done. It whispers of everything he could do that sounds too sweet to be real and that he doesn't even try to do. It pictures the disappointment and the regret as if they are the emotions that have been there all along, which can be true.

It says that he is acting cowardly at best. Everything else at worst.

And he doesn't want to believe at first, because it would mean there would be more than a few problems to fix. Big ones, actually, the ones that he is not sure on how to approach for they are too delicate and fragile and easily breakable. But he does believe, with time, and then, he ponders.

And Gray questions if he has been doing the correct thing waiting for solutions that will never come. If his friends and Juvia's concerns were based on those obscure facts that have been clouding his mind. If fucking Lyon was actually right with his assertions, even if it pains him to admit it.

There is no response, only silence and blackness. As always.

It's not like the ice mage needs it anyways. He already knows the answers.

"Shit."

-x-

The others start getting suspicious by the time the third week of Juvia's absence comes. They don't ask directly, of course, but he can feel it in the way Erza skeptically questions his well-being or Cana's too frisky comments on how Juvia is coming and going from Magnolia when she is not even taking any mission. Gajeel is the most obvious one signaling the strangeness of the situation with abrasive accusations and grunts.

In the beginning, Gray doesn't take them into account. He has enough on his plate as it is to mind his friends interfering in his life, enough of being blind and lamenting it for so long. Then again, it was him who has been embroiling so much with his petty stubbornness. And maybe it was time he started to ask for help and accepting it.

It takes time to decide and longer to gather the courage to act. There is pride and indignation and the tiniest amount of fear somewhere stopping him at first. However, he really, really wants everything back as it was once —comfortable and peaceful and _happy_. So Gray does come to terms, and when in one rainy day of spring Levy and Gajeel come by with texts for him to read and news from the guild, he does what he should have done days ago.

The outcome doesn't go smoothly. He should have known with Gajeel.

"Gray," Levy's voice feels wobbled, almost a whisper, making him frown. "Has something happened between you two?" She pauses in hesitation before continuing, "Everyone's noticed that something is going on with Juvia lately, she isn't acting herself, and you aren't in the best of moods either..."

He sighs inwardly, annoyance bubbling. The ice mage wills to stop playing with the hem of his t-shirt, instead dragging his fingers through the locks of hair grazing his forehead. Attempting not to push the corners of his mouth down, he disregards the small girl's question.

"Is she at Fairy Hills or not?"

"Uhm. Juvia is—"

Suddenly, a low growl disrupts her, directing their attention to the other occupant in the room. He frowns with Gajeel's interruption and tries vainly to glare at him, this time letting his mouth form an unpleasant scowl. The other blows a harsh breath again, approaching from the corner he has been standing for the most part of the conversation.

"What?" Gray barks.

"I knew it," he says with a tone that is anything but friendly, the wooden floor cracking under his weight. "The woman's been actin' strange. Wondering why and course it's _you_." His breath ghosts over the skin of the ice mage's face. "Always the same."

Gray's frown deepens in irritation, hands squirming through the end of his shirt and a question burning his tongue. "What does that me—?"

"Shaddup," Gajeel grunts roughly, actually making him stop talking. The Dragon Slayer continues without a pause and Gray smells something similar to rusty iron. "Not gonna ask 'bout it. Don't care. But fix her or die, stripper."

It's a threat, he knows, if the intimidating ring to the words and the finger poking at his chest can't spell it. Anger fills up, warm spreading through his cheeks. He raises his chin haughtily, facing Gajeel as best as he can, guessing approximately where his eyes are. Levy tries to interfere, her meek voice no reaching them and being overshadowed by the grim discussion going on.

"Guys, don't start—"

"This is none of your concern—," the ice mage hisses.

"Yeah, it is," the other man answers with as much force. "So don't you dare to fucking screw up, princess. Not this time." And as abruptly as he has butted in, Gajeel steps back. Gray hears the little peep Levy does and the floor creaking as if something is lifted from it. Gajeel sniffs. "She's comin' back this afternoon. C'mon, shrimp."

The Iron Dragon Slayer doesn't leave him any room to argue, he is moving by the end of his little speech, and the last Gray hears of them is the heavy boots of Gajeel and Levy's shrill voice demanding to be put down before the door closes behind them, silencing the sound of the ongoing rain.

Then, silence.

Gray harrumphs irked, mumbling while he enters his room.

That afternoon he fidgets with the strange weight of his long coat on his shoulders. It has been a long time ago since he has last worn it, almost as long he has been secluded insides his apartment. It feels weird and uncomfortable, borderline foreign, making it harder not to take it off when his stripping habit kicks in. But when he grasps the handle of the door, the gentle drip drop of the drizzle reaching his ears, he makes up his mind.

It has been too long. He needs to start moving now.

And opening the door Gray gives a step to the world beyond his house, umbrella in hand.

-x-

The muscles of his hands are stiff by the time he arrives to Fairy Hills. It takes Gray thrice the normal effort to reach his destination as he occasionally stops to ask for directions, even though he can remember the overall path, while being extra careful not to end up crashing against someone or something. He keeps a firm hold on the umbrella in his right hand as the left slides through the brick walls, his steps short but confident.

Gray swings the umbrella to the right, patting the pavement. Soon, the dry hollow sound of the concrete turns into the crunchy and stony echo of earth under his feet, resonating above the beat of the rain, and before long, the tip of his umbrella hits the few stairs to the gate of the girl's residence. He climbs them carefully until he stands in front of the oak door and knocks four times.

Erza is the one who opens, the clangs of her armor distinct. She doesn't respond immediately, the hinges squeaking under the pressure of her weight. It's then, in front of the requip mage muteness, when Gray thinks about the image he must be giving right there: drenched to the bones, surely with some piece of clothing missing somewhere and outside of his fucking house. However, she is Erza, and as soon as he is about to speak, she cuts in.

"You know the rules. Forbidden entrance to boys," she says with something akin to amusement and knowing. "I'll call Juvia."

And like that, she waltzes in again, leaving behind an uneasy Gray. He sighs, slouching his shoulders and relaxing his stance with strained calm. Even with the weather storming just at his back, there is no attempt on entering the enormous building, since he isn't prepared to die yet, and smiles as he feels the wind and the rain against him.

Some minutes after the scarlet woman's retreat, when his fingers start twitching around the umbrella, the clattering of footsteps approach from the front. At first, they sound light-headed, heels rattling against the carpet. When the steps end up being one second late between one another, though, he knows she has spotted him, her walking becoming more insecure as she draws nearer, coming to a halt just a few inches from him.

He holds his breath.

Suddenly, Gray discovers he doesn't know what to say. Neither does Juvia, it seems, because she doesn't speak up either. It's awkward with the unnatural silence between them two, something that rarely has ever happened and drowns them slowly. The man exhales, searching for all the possible things to say and finding none to his distress. Little by little frustration rises within; a frown appears in his face as he scolds himself for not thinking ahead. She only stands there, waiting.

Finally, it's Juvia who breaks the tense stillness.

"Why is Gray-sama here?" she says apprehensively. He can discern the anxiety behind her words, mixed with sadness and a sprinkle of hope that gives him a headache for his now evident foolishness.

He sighs, the umbrella swinging between frantic hands.

"I— I am..." Gray starts lamely, his tongue becoming a knot. Flushing, he decides that the best approach would be the sincerest one. "I shouldn't have screamed at you," he states firmly. "I might... I've got my frustrations on you, something I shouldn't have 'coz you were just tryin' to help and—," his gulps, scowling. "Ugh."

Shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose Gray mutters obscenities through gritted teeth. It's harder than he thought it would be, but difficult situations have never stopped him before. And sure as hell he wouldn't give up right there. Not by any chance.

On the spur of the moment, he bows as deeply as he can, head lowered for her, his voice hoarse ,and says the only thing he is positive about from all the mess.

"I was an idiot. I'm sorry."

And that's it.

Juvia's breathing quickens, a gasp escaping from her lips. She fumbles quietly, a sound of gripping clothes reaching and an imperceptible sniff being concealed. Gray doesn't stand up.

"Gray-sama is out of his house."

"Well, yeah."

"And has come all the way to here to apologize."

"Uh-uh."

"While raining."

"Er, kinda?"

Another sniff, a step coming closer and a stuttering voice asking if everything would be alright. "Will— will Gray-sama let Juvia be around him?"

He sighs again, relief washing over. It's a weight lifting from his shoulders, recovering something he has missed and making amends with his faults, all the while listening to the slightly jumpy Juvia through the consistent rain. It's warm soaring through his veins and throbbing in his bones and a peace he hasn't felt for a long time.

"Yeah," he answers with a crooked smile. "Of course yes."

Juvia squeals, a high-pitched tone that hurts his ears and overflows with giddiness. Arms slide around his sides by the time he completely stands up, taking him aback. She clutches to him as her dear life depends on it, leaving him breathless and puffing all the air from his lungs and, really, he should have expected that.

Gray leans into her touch anyways, shifting so very slightly to welcome her arms around his waist more easily and to let her get over it faster. He owes her that much at least. It takes her long minutes to separate from him, which is done very reluctantly, and by then, with nothing else to do, he already has memorized her scent of sweet chamomile and something else he is unable to put his finger on but reminds him of spring and sunny days.

And he rather likes it, Gray unconsciously thinks.

She starts babbling, still clamping his hands with a strength worth of praising and without paying attention to his roll of eyes, she mutters about going to the guild. It's beyond him how fast she changes from one subject to another before gasping in recollection and getting inside Fairy Hills as fast as lightning. The ice mage continues to be a little bit dumbfounded when she returns, her stride clear with cheerfulness.

He comes back to his sense when he hears something that sounds like crystal tingling and a hand grips his left arm. He sighs exasperated, as he has done a hundred times in the past, and fights off the smirk that has formed in his lips.

"What is that sound?"

The water woman laughs joyfully, taking the umbrella from his hands and opening it above them.

"Gray-sama will know soon."

-x-

The guild still holds the sweaty smell to it. As soon as they enter the explosion of booming shouts and wild wrestling meets them, objects been broken and laughs of joy filling every corner of the room. For a second everything goes silent when the double doors open, an ice mage and a water mage getting in, to continue with their feast louder than ever before.

Gray is greeted with pats on the back and challenges for battle. Cana places a jar of beer in front of him and Mira questions if he wants anything to eat. Natsu and Elfman, on the other hand, settle on screaming at his ears for a long awaited battle, ignoring Lucy's complains and Wendy's quiet welcome. Gajeel hits him on the arm, 'gihi'ing in a way that resembled darkness before Levy apologizes for his rudeness.

Juvia doesn't allow him to linger too much, though, more excited about showing him whatever she wants to show. She drags him through their guildmates as soon as he has addressed everyone, sitting him down on a table at the far corner and then, struggles with little huffs and the still present clinking sound he has heard all the way up till there.

"Y'shoulda seen it, Gray! Took hours to dry everythin' up!" He hears the boisterous laugh of Cana across the room, speaking so loudly that Gray still can discern it above all the noise. "Don't ever fuckin' make her sad, man, too many problems. 'Sides, next time we won't be so forgivin', right Erza?"

Erza's answer is lost behind the laughter of the people around them that makes Gray feel a blush forming on embarrassment and shame. He turns his head up, an eyebrow raised in silent question while listening to the wacky movements of Juvia slowing down.

"Maybe Juvia kind of flooded the dormitories once or twice," she says bashfully, a little awkward laugh following after.

The ice mage sighs, heat spreading further down and arriving to his neck. Guilt taking over, he is about to say sorry again with little to no thought, the words tripping over before getting out, when something scatters all over the table. There are soft plunks of small objects ringing at the end, as if it was crystal but not completely. Juvia hums with pride.

"What's this?" he asks apologies forgotten, taking one of the objects between his fingers. It's smooth, cold and cube shaped. "Ice?"

"Yes, it's Lyon-sama's idea!" She explains merrily, the scrape of wood against wood coming from the other end of the table.

Gray halts midway from getting another of the pieces, lips turning downwards before proceeding with picking up another of them. "Lyon made these." That one has the outline of a cone. "For what?"

"Well, he called Juvia a week ago saying he had a way to aid Gray-sama," the woman starts warily, "and when Juvia went to Lamia Scale to know what was that about Lyon-sama gave these to her." She takes one of his hands between hers, dropping another figurine in his palm. It has an octahedrical shape. "Lyon-sama said that he found this old woman who helped him with the, uh, rehabilitation techniques for you?"

Under the now silent presence of Juvia, Gray touches the little pieces of ice that their forms vary from prism, sphere and icosahedrons to two dimensional shapes as the square, oval and hexagon that are totally flat against the table. They fit his hands with a studied precision. Behind them, where the guild is having one of his famous parties, yells and shouts of imminent warzone echo.

"And?" He nudges her to continue, ignoring the chaos at his back.

"He said he found this woman while doing a mission. A very, very good wood mage. Lisa-san was her name, I think. Lyon-sama said that the things she did with her magic were perfect," now she is the one tripping over her own words, sentence after sentence pouring with no pause between. "Gray-sama," Juvia claims excited, "she was blind too!"

All movements pause, and for a brief moment, his breath hitches in his throat and disbelieve arises. Slowly, doubt evident, he carries on. "She was?"

"Yes!" She is flustered by excitement, he can tell. Her hands have bolted up, circling around his, and they are way warmer than they usually are. "So Lyon-sama asked her how was that possible. With her blindness. And she told him about how, even without visual memory, she could still use the other senses to picture what she wanted to create." Her breathing is ragged and shallow and for a brief moment Gray notices that he is gripping her hands as hard as she is gripping his. "Something about tactile memory. Lyon-sama explained that as long as you memorize how it feels in your hands, weight, shape and sensation, it may work. Gray-sama's magic."

The ice mage can perceive the screams of a battle in the background, followed by the unyielding commands of Erza to stop, but all his attention is focused on the woman before him filling his displayed hands with all the ice figurines. In the end, she closes his fingers around them, the pointy ends of the pieces piercing his skin.

"The woman said it'd require a lot of training and patience and... But it may work. It'll work!" she almost screams. "What does Gray-sama say?"

Gray gapes at her, no sound escaping from his mouth. He can't believe it, believe her; there is, however, a hope long lost. Just in front of him, slightly puncturing his palms. Then, Gray understands what it can mean, narrowing his eyes while his lips transform into a firm line. And he frowns deeply.

"I told you not to involve yourself," he says with such a stern voices that Juvia flinches, lifting her hands until they are barely brushing him. "I told you I didn't ask for your help."

She hesitates, her voice tiny and shattered. "Ju-Juvia knows, but—"

"So I'm asking for it now," he ends, a bit softer than before, no letting her continue with her thoughts. "Tell me more."

It takes her various instants to react, which does nothing to calm his nerves, but when she does, she giggles as if she has understood something very simple. As if whatever that have been askew has fixed itself completely.

"You're welcome."

And the last shreds of the animosity fade.

Soon, the conversations is broken with the interjection of Natsu crashing against the wall besides them, Gajeel's proclaim of superiority, Erza's angry scold and some metal scraping against its sheath. Another set of laughter resonates throughout the place and Gray laughs along them like he used to.

-x-

So he trains with the new possibility that opened up for him. He spends weeks only stroking and handling the figures, learning by heart the sensation of their weight, shapes and the cold surfaces with the peculiar characteristics of the ice. He readjusts to the feeling of his element again, remembering the freezing impression of it, the smooth exterior of well-polished chunks or the raspy touch of frost.

By the beginning of summer he has started to replicate them with relative precision. At first they came as deformed, bigger or smaller than desired, with something missing or with too much ice put on it; although the basic form behind them could be discerned somehow. After hundreds of failed trials per day, his ice starts taking a defined form, a resemblance of what it used to. However, they aren't perfect by any means. There is always this mistake that stands out, that one that it's more of a beginner slip than anything else; but it's more than what he had just a month ago.

It's enough for him. For now.

Then, once he is confident to go further, Gray experiments. He begins with little things as changing their size, emptying them so only the skeleton of the figure remained or proving with different thicknesses. It reminds him of when he trained with Ur and Lyon, the times when he was tossed to blizzards so he could practice. After that, the training is like a puzzle, adding a shape to another to create a completely different form.

He combines pyramids with cubes, hexagons with ovals, imposing or blending this shape with that one to design something barely similar to a house, a dog, a flower. Under the advice of his friends his ice becomes more complex, more intricate as it once was. The ice mage consciously rounds the corners, adds details to them, sharpens or evens the tips depending on what Juvia or anyone tells him and then, he studies the new figurine as well. He can create and replicate to his heart's contents.

By the time the sun comes down on him like only summer knows, Gray even goes as far as asking Erza for her swords so to use them as models for his ice weaponry. Although it does almost end in instant dead, he manages to borrow one or two of them from Titania.

So that is how he acts every day. It's an exhausting way of practicing that depletes his magical reserves. But it's more fun that he has had for months and it helps him to reconcile with his friends and Juvia when they gather around him to tell him this or that. Besides, it leaves him so tired that the sleep comes in a blink of an eye, followed by dreamless nights. Not like Gray will complain on that.

It's a really slow process, but he has hope to hold on at last.

-x-

Gray is surprised when one afternoon Mira hands him a piece of paper. Natsu and the others have suddenly gone silent, which is suspicious in itself for Natsu never shuts up, so he frowns and brushes through it. There is nothing striking on it, or nothing that he can actually sense, until his fingertips reach the lower end of the paper. Bulgy little dots stand out in an arrangement he has come to learn. He reads.

_Rescue Mission_

_Reward: 12 000 jewels_

And bellow detailed information on the task.

The ice mage freezes, hands squirming through the braille letters again while his eyebrows shoot up. He certainly hasn't seen this coming. Gray lifts his head to face his team around the table, evident confusion splattered across his expression.

"What's this?" he asks.

"It's a mission, idiot!" Natsu shouts from his left.

"I know that, you—"

"Master's idea," Mira interferes rapidly, a giggle pouring from her lips. "We thought Fairy Tail needs to be available to everyone, yes? So we translated all the things around the guild. Master Makarov sent an application to Magnolia's town hall too."

"Ah." Gray swallows, holding the paper strongly.

They don't try to hide their snickers or amusement, comments flowing all of a sudden between them. He listens to their proclaims with mild interest while his concentration is focused on the object in front of him and wondering if the mission broad is full of papers like that as well. He hears that the girls, Lucy, Levy and Juvia mainly, were responsible of taking into the work of helping with braille translations while the others presented the project to the Mayor of Magnolia.

Gray snorts. It's such an unnecessary thing to do, a waste of time since he has proven time and time again in the face of their pointless worries that he could handle himself quite efficiently around the town and the guild with almost no guidance to move around. There are some accidents, sometimes, but nothing to really obsess about. Nevertheless, obviously, it hasn't calmed his friends down as they have bothered with such an insignificant problem.

It's hard to hide the smile that has started to tug the corners of his mouth, nonetheless, or the feeling of gratitude swarming him instead of the vague indignation he was expecting.

"I see," he comments in the second he can slide a word through their boisterous conversations. "Thanks."

He twirls the paper around his fingers before putting it down, waiting for the dialogue to begin again. It doesn't, they choose to remain silent until he picks up with their strange behavior and a frown surfaces within seconds. Tilting his head to the side, he questions, "What?"

The rustling of clothes and hands reach him, no one really answering to his inquiry. He huffs annoyed, jerking his back right. Gray scowls at them, silently demanding to someone to speak up already.

Finally, it's Natsu who answers shamelessly, "You didn't burst out."

"It's just... you seem better, Gray-san," Wendy quickly chirps in. "Not so, uhm, broody." Lucy's and Erza's sounds of confirmation follow after, their voices emanating empathy and apology.

"Sulking."

"Sardonic."

"Asshole-ish."

"Natsu!" A swipe of flesh against flesh continued with a whimper of one in pain.

"It's true! You know it, Lucy," he howls pathetically. "He's already an asshole, of course, but since he went blind he's been insufferable!"

The ice mage chews over the new information, toning down the discussion between Lucy and the Dragon Slayer. It isn't anything new, he has known he has acted anything but kindly lately; however, it is harder to get the message in when the complain was put so bluntly. It makes him uneasy of what other changes have happened on him since, of changes he is not sure about.

Either way, he doesn't want to know, so he chuckles forcibly.

"I was?" He says, voice light with carelessness. The couple stops fighting momentarily, sighs resonating around the table,

"A bit. Maybe," Lucy speaks reaching for his arm. "We were worried."

"We still are," Erza finishes.

An awkward muteness falls on them, all the meanings displayed to see. The merry atmospheres decays with astonishing velocity while leaving behind a compromising feeling. Gray flusters uncomfortably on the chair, hoping for someone to cast the heavy subject aside.

"See?" Once again, Natsu takes upon himself to act.

Irritated by the Dragon Slayer's actual bull's-eye, Gray grins, raising an eyebrow with studied precision and dismissing the groans of his friends.

"Well," Gray says almost monotonously, "better than being a full time moron."

That breaks out the fire mage's anger, which, after a heated banter like in the old times, ends with blowing fists and the whole guild partaking in the brawl. The ice mage loses as fast as it has begun to his distress, obviously.

-x-

The next phase of his training begins at the end of summer, when Gray feels completely confident with his recovered powers. It doesn't matter how much he can do with his ice if he doesn't know how to apply them into real fights, combining it with his lack of sight. So he finds himself in need of addressing the problem of battling with his others senses instead of eyes.

Erza comes handy in that area. Having lived a great deal of her life with a single eye, she has come to develop her abilities to patch up her blind spot. Not all of the tricks do work for him, since their disabilities are different enough that the techniques don't cover up all his flanks, but Erza is an unyielding teacher.

It's another stream of searching for all the answers in the books, from fighting styles that don't rely so much in the sight and more in the hearing or touching to discovering how to act depending the situation. Both of them read throughout the day while between breaks Erza obliges him to recuperate his lost physical shape.

Meanwhile, Gray swears he will never ever ask for Erza's help again.

They discover that the best way to approach his enemies would be with fighting styles based on grappling or short distance combat so he would know all the movements of his adversary without being deceived by them. He would stick to them, gripping them with force and attacking with his ice weaponry, more likely formed by short swords or spears, or in any case, freezing as much as he could.

At first, it's nothing more than the learning of the positions, the punch and kicks he should do, inventing ways to introduce his magic to it in the most efficient mode and being strictly trained under the hawk eyes of Erza. When Gray faces her seeking for the best method to grasp the adversary quickly, he realized that for enemies that are well versed in short ranged combat the approach would be to nullify their limbs by freezing when he grips them, to continue with a succession of attacks, physical or magical.

Then, they involve Juvia, or she meddles in when the opportunity arises, as a long and middle range opponent. Those are trickier for him since he can't never be sure were their location is, so among the three of them they plan. They arrive to the conclusion that he should rely on his hearing, laying a mantle of ice around the area and listen to his enemies' footsteps before they can knock him out. That results being kind of dangerous, although the ice mage learns that constant movement so the opponent is unable to hit properly is the best he can do.

Finally, as everything has been sorted out, they set out sparring seriously. Gone are the static adversary or harmless attacks while he positions in the middle of the room, a fighting stance taking over. Juvia stand somewhere else. He evens his breathing, waiting for Erza's signal.

"Don't go easy on me," he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

"Juvia never will."

Then, Titania shouts, commencing the match.

And he lasts for less than _a minute._

Gray gasps sprawled on the floor, Juvia's presence hovering around. He feels hands picking up his arm, helping him to stand up while the clacking boots of Erza approach. He can't believe and neither can the girls, since they only stand there with no words being told, and he nervously shakes his hands against his sides.

His own magic has failed him. His ice has broken when before, way back when everything was okay, wouldn't have. He was so late creating it, too late acting according the time set by Juvia or counterattacking when he should have. It's a mess, a complete mess that foresees the downfall and destroys all his expectations.

The ice mage scowls, hands writhing through his hair and body shaking in fury, Juvia's hand in his shoulder doing nothing to appease him.

"This is fucking bad," he mutters.

"That's not true…" Juvia starts with a worried voice before Erza cuts her off.

"It could be worse. There is always a difference between theory and practice and you just need to work on it." She says with stress behind each word, signaling she will have none of it. Erza continues, softer this time and patting his back. "No worries. It will come through."

Gray sighs, nodding if only to appear he agrees with her. Because he knows nothing is that simple. Never.

-x-

Three days become two weeks and then a month. Erza's statement proves to be wrong. It doesn't come through. Not easily at least.

There are improvements, tiny ones that allow him to endure better the falls, but when it comes to succeeding, to pushing until he can have the possibility of winning, Gray can't find much to relieve his wounded pride. They decide on switching sparring partners; sometimes Lucy or Natsu will come, others time Max or Lissana, once in a while even Cana or Gajeel will be present, trying to put some dynamism to the training. It results being worse.

Gray discovers that fire is too untamed to be able to follow it only through the sensation against his skin, or that he will immediately lose to anyone who can put too much strain on his direct attack as Gajeel does, or that the versatility Lucy possesses is nothing but bad news for him. Gray faces the dire situation of needing to search for all the ways to counter every kind of magic, which in a real battle of life or death decides the final outcome. And he has all the cards to fail.

He needs to make up for so much that it's almost impossible to do anything at all.

It is as if all his efforts are slipping away, like water that can't be hold with hands.

-x-

As the autumn days loss their warm to winter, a gray veil has befallen his sleep. It takes him by surprise, after so many nights with no colorless nightmare haunting him, when they appear once again with renewed strength.

His dreams have receded for so long he has expected and hoped that he would never seen them again, that he would never view how their degradation suggested his own. But there they are again, hexing the night and actually mirroring his stagnant position with places that are less and less of what he remembered and more of what he sees now.

It's formed by a world covered in ash, of a sun that doesn't shine and people as shallow as they seem to be. The colors that seem to reign at first dissipate little by little, losing their value to become shadows of what they used to be. It's a curse he is bound to live with but doesn't let him live.

And after waking up, when the nightmare appears to be over, he remembers that he, in fact, doesn't remember at all. Not as he used to at least.

There is nothing left but black, white and his own name in his dreams. It's the most frightening thing he has ever witnessed.

-x-

Gray leans against the board, arms crossed against his chest and lips becoming a downwards curve. He has spent an hour in that position already, mulling over the pieces of paper lying in front of him. It's a tempting idea in the corner of his mind that hasn't given up yet when the rest of him is about to.

He has always been the type who learns by doing anyways. It's easier for him to come up with answers when the adrenaline is suffocating his body and his mind aches searching for all the chances. Not that fighting against his comrades is a bad option, but it's not completely the same. It's safe and friendly, not the pushing to the limit kind of experience where the impossible can happen because it needs to happen.

Then, there is the worrisome matter of his slimming budget too. The savings won't endure for long now and he must pay the rent and the basic needs.

Yet, it's too great of a risk to actually take it. An incorrect decision, a moment too late acting would be enough to bring him down completely, and the reputation of the guild with him. Maybe even worse. But if he chooses wisely, perhaps, it can work. It wouldn't be the first time going in a suicidal mission after all.

Fingertips graze the missions, little dots pressing against his skin as he mutters the job descriptions that sound nostalgic to his ears: rescuing, protecting, trapping, attacking, achieving, gathering. Eyebrows knitting in concentration, he stumbles through them, searching for something that even him can do and get rewarded by. It's not until a bit late that he recognizes the breathing of someone next to him. And the smell he has come to know well.

"Is Gray-sama going to take a mission?" she mumbles with uncertainty.

He finds an escorting mission among all the others. It's easy, one of those rare one day jobs that are well paid with the only requirement to escort the client to a close town from the mountains and protect them from the occasional thief. Holding the paper carefully, Gray shrugs.

"Dunno." Juvia tiptoes around him, her tiny steps surrounding him.

"But—"

"I know," he brusquely says, knowing what was going to be the next she was going to say. He sighs, dissipating the harsh edge of his words when she halts all movement. "I just— I guess I want to try. So I see if I can. It could be better than what I'm doing too. Maybe." He doesn't say that certainly it cannot be any worse. "Need jewels too."

At the silence of Juvia that seems to mark the end of their little conversation, the ice mage checks the paper once more, coming to a resolution, before creating an ice stick from thin air. He places it on the floor, swinging and tapping as he has learned to do, the destination clear in his mind. The counter with Mira behind is not far away, but he discovered that with the constants brawls within the guild objects are always scattered around the floor. There has been enough stumbling with discarded chairs or flipped tables.

He hasn't even arrived to Mira when Juvia catches up with him, her stride matching his own, saying that she wants to accompany him on his task.

"You coming?" he asks warily, the implicit question hanging in the air.

"Juvia thinks it's going to be safer if we go together."

Gray snaps his mouth close, a frown taking over his expression in slight indignation. He is not sure on what bothers him more, the evident and truthful implication that he needs help or the tone she has used, the one reserved when she feels down or thinks something bad is going to happen. It's upsetting somehow that Juvia from all people doesn't have much confidence on him.

Then again, it would be better if he has a back up. The sensible option and all that. So he chooses to nod at her and continue with his way to the bartender.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

There is nothing more to say.

When handing over the mission to Mira, the ice mage thinks that it cannot be that bad. He has done things like that one a thousand times before, and for all the difficulties people think there are, only a few of them are actually dangerous. He will always have a reliable friend next to him with Juvia as well, and he has been training nonstop for that moment precisely. The chances of succeeding are high, and so are the ones that would allow him to leave his withdrawal from all the action behind. With those thoughts, his mood lightens for the better.

Gray feels hopeful. Maybe the dreams will go away again too.

-x-

The water around him is relief, a reminder of someone close by. The growls in front of him are not that much of comfort, nevertheless.

It's not bandits, thieves or mages what they found in the end, but wild hungry animals. Half-dozen of mountain cats surround them, big as they can be and armed with sharp fangs that could pierce through flesh and bones. Their customer squeaks behind them, asking in a fearful tone to do something before going to safety behind a bunch of bushes.

The mages of Fairy Tail are left with free reign to make their magic a reality.

Gray positions himself, the howls of one of the beast coming from his right. Juvia at his left, her water already flooding the rest of the pack. He hunches slightly, readying to move in any moment and his hands inches of distance from each other.

It's hard to make out where his only beast is with its natural pads silencing any movement. Exploding bubbles distract him for a second, signaling the death of the rest of the mountain cats by the hands of Juvia. The ice mage breathes in and out, concentrating once again on what is front of him.

He hears the roar of his enemy, the creaks of earth and the imperceptible smell of blood. He feels the buzz of magic through his body, a surge of cold coming out of his hands and something filling his empty hands. A short spear of ice shields him. Then, the gigantic feline leaps, its hindquarters kicking the floor with wild strength.

And it _shatters._

-x-

He can feel Juvia fidgeting besides him, the drum of her slender fingers clutching and unfolding the hem of her dress, the swish of her legs turning unstable and the small exhales of air. He can sense her agitation as his own, adding pressure to the already strained muscles of his shoulders. The wound in his left forearm, still bleeding to the improvised bandage, doesn't help to alleviate his tension.

Gray sighs while massaging the sore arm, spirits low after an unsuccessful day of mission. They did manage to guide their client with no problems, but it doesn't feel as if he has earned a sack of money and completed a well done job, not when he was bitten by a damn cat. It proves how much of a road he has in front of him before he can do a stupid quest like that one.

It's not an encouraging thought at all. He widens his steps, speeding up their slow walk and swaying the ice cane viciously. He has spent months recuperating his magic and as much learning how to return to action, yet there is a longer time for him before he can do anything. It's a blazing idea crossing his mind, to fix so many problems and accept others that won't ever be fixed.

He growls through gritted teeth, fingers clutching with unnecessary force. And suddenly, he is yanked from his good arm.

"What the hell—?!"

Smaller hands interlace with his, warm spreading to his cold skin. Juvia is too close, her presence invading his comfort, holding him firmly to not let him go anywhere. His stance goes rigid, breath hitching before getting out and eyebrows furrowing in caution. When she speaks, her voice is small compared to the usual assured one and he finds himself leaning in.

"Gray-sama is worrying again," she starts. "Juvia doesn't understand it completely, but… she doesn't think it's going to be alright if Gray-sama doesn't calm down."

He pulls his hands away, or attempts to, as Juvia secures his grip on him. The previous curiosity becoming irritation, he struggles to keep his temper at bay.

"I'm not worried or anything," he answers with his voice tight.

"Gray-sama is, though," she carries on, her tone going a grade more desperate. "Gray-sama is getting angry and Juvia isn't sure about what to do. She understands that this is frustrating; it's something no one should live. But shutting in won't help. Juvia knows that." Gray gulps, his limbs gaining weight all of a sudden, and he sighs. "And Juvia hopes Gray-sama knows that. She doesn't want anything bad to happen." She lets her hands to slides from his, until their fingers are the only point of contact. "No one does."

He grinds his teeth, his face contorting into a grimace. The ice mage can hear her uneven respiration, the swoosh of her dress and he can feel her distress as his own. Arms dropping to his sides, the annoyed expression falls from him.

Gray takes a deep breath, chest puffing, and then, everything deflates

"I know," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was just kinda gone for a moment there."

He really does, because it's true and obvious. For the beginning he has known that nothing would come without time and dedication, and he has leant that anger wouldn't do anything but hinder his road. The evidence stands before him, with one of her concerned looks, he bets. It should calm him down.

It doesn't. Not completely.

He doesn't tell her, though.

However, as the burden that has followed him since they departed from their customer slips away, he understands her words even if they don't reach fully. And he is more thankful of her in that moment than ever before. Because at least, he understands, even if he can't find peace, he has someone who is going to hold him. This time he searches for her hand, hesitantly so, giving a light squeeze that doesn't last more than a second, before turning around and continuing their path back to home.

"Thanks anyway," he voices nonchalantly.

She hums, an incomprehensible whisper reaching his ears. He exhales again, showing her one of his most insecure smiles, and smells the air around him full of the aroma of chamomile and…

"Ah," Gray gasps, understanding drowning in. "Lilacs."

She continues whispering, although this time he catches some words escaping her lips. Gray frowns.

"Juvia?" No answer, only a sigh. "Juvia, stop daydreaming dammit!"

-x-

Exhaustion and anxiety are the predominant feelings when even at the middle of winter he has almost not improved with the mastery of his own magic. Juvia attempts to cheer him up as always, trying to convince him that time is all he needs. However, it's hard to believe that when time is all he has and there hardly ever is any achievement with his combat skills.

Gray knows he needs the familiarity he lost with his powers, the one that can't be learned as easily as knowing how to produce a replica of an object.

The casualness is something learned by years of experience, the addition of all the little tweaks one does, to know the magic surging from your core as you know the back of your hand. He hasn't forgotten the essence of his abilities, he never would; but the method has changed, and with it, the rest.

It took him over a decade to achieve the level of perfection he had acquired with the ice. It would take him that much or more to gain it again with his sight gone and the way he lived his magic crumbling down. And there is nothing else to do but grit his teeth and train until fatigue numbs all his muscles.

Then, there are the things he won't recover ever again. It won't matter how much he repeats the exercises, doesn't matter how much he tries, he will be always be a step behind from all the others. There is always going to be a disadvantage for him, either instances where he won't be able to use the battlefield for not knowing his surrounding or where the other senses won't be enough to cover up for his sight.

It's unfair, but it's true and inevitable, Gray understands. It doesn't make his situation any less painful, though.

He needs to find all the roundabout ways to face all the obstacles and surpass them, and he will, as clear as he is going to go back to action. With help maybe. With time surely.

And still, when he is barely able to keep up with the easiest of fights, he is not so sure.

-x-

Gray wakes up in the middle of the night, bathed in sweat and ragged breaths.

There is a painful shrill resonating in his ears in the beginning, slowly dimming to a constant plain ring and his hands are stiff as is the rest of his body. He only allows himself to relax when the nocturnal noises of Magnolia take over the unpleasant strident sound and the only thing he can hear are the insects and occasional footstep of someone passing by at unholy hours.

It's far from calm though. He heart beats with a wild pace, sweat covers his body and hands are clenched in anger, a scowl already appearing.

He remembers it. The dreams where everything is of a thousand colors even with the degradation of his memory that numbs the vivid greens, reds or blues. Where he listens to the discussion between Natsu and Lucy, the conversation going on with the Strauss siblings and Juvia telling him her last mission with Gajeel. Where he can actually _see _all of them and their faces and smiles

Yet, it doesn't last. It's a work of progress that slowly drains all the life from every object and person. He can only but watch how Juvia's eyes go from blue to gray and then settle into a barren black. The same happens wherever he looks, until the world around him becomes of shadows, only white and black staying with him.

And suddenly when panic spurts, as if the lights have been switched off, the utter blackness that wasn't quite black swallows everything, only the sound remaining behind.

And he remembers how much he hates it.

Gray doesn't try to sleep for what is left of the night; not because he can't, but because he doesn't want to. So he listens to the tick-tack of the clock on his nightstand for hours to no end, and thinks that madness or desperation, as if there is such a difference between those two, must feel like that somehow. And when the sun rises in the east, warm spreading, he goes to the guild.

He bangs in while Fairy Tail is still waking up, only the oldest members and Mira around the hall. Gray salutes them with quick hellos and nods, his destination memorized in his mind and going there with large confident strides. Three steps ahead, four to the left to avoid the table in the middle and another eight steps forward until the mission board is an arm distance from him. It takes him thirty minutes to choose one mission, always reminding himself that it must not be too complicate or too easy —never too easy— and another hour until Natsu and Lucy come in, Erza in toe with Wendy.

Ten minutes are enough to assure them.

That afternoon Gray leaves to a mission with his old team.

* * *

**N/A:** Alriiight. A bunch of things to say. So first of all I hope the thing with recovering Gray's magic makes sense cause I fucking swear I wrecked my brains trying to explain as best as I could. Secondly, I must ask if the descriptions are okay, because I found that with the absence of visual commentary it's hard to express what I want to say. Thirdly comes with three words: out of character. I just bah.

And last but most important, next update will be waaaaay faster since I'm on holidays (hopefully) There're other things but for the shake of keeping the n/a short (and laziness) i'll just leave them out *silent scream*

Thanks for the reviews **sabina. chaudri, xsamiichan, thewalkingdeadfairytail, Darkhope, Thaysh, Xo36oX, kurohyacchan, Contrail, BrigitteoO, babypapaya, Fantasy-Magician, xgasasi-yunox, siriuslight, Medaka-chan, QuietNightningle, WoofQuack'ed MeowRoar, ShootingStar50, YukiOnnaMonet, mgaa, IndigoHailstorm, Yumeko nee** and everyone who has favorited or followed. They motivated me to finally write the continuation!

Love you all and thanks for reading!


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